


can you feel it?

by literatureonhowtolose



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: (very little smut and it's for lack of a better word really), Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sharing a Bed, all of it in gay, also yananie hyo and hui are only mentioned, anyway it's your boys being sad and then getting a little okayer, it may be a bit dramatic i don't know how to tone it down, take care of yourselves universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 08:49:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17040602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literatureonhowtolose/pseuds/literatureonhowtolose
Summary: Yuto wishes he could melt into Wooseok, intertwine his soul with the other’s the same way he can intertwine their fingers. To share this pain more easily, dilute it until it becomes nothing more than a light throb under the skin: manageable, faster to heal.





	can you feel it?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello, it's me and it's been so long I doubt I still remember how to write decently, assuming I ever knew in the first place.  
> It's been roughly two years since my last published fic, and in the meantime I've written close to nothing. Every project I've started has turned to dust so far, so one day I read some fictober prompts and decided that I'd fuse two lists I found interesting to try and write some short fics on them.  
> This fic is the first I've been able to write, and despite being barely 2k words long it took me, like, a month. I started writing it when we still weren't sure about Hyojong's fate, that much I know. And that's how difficult writing has become for me, and that's how desperate I am to start again. I hope this is my new beginning. I hope I can still do this.  
> As always, english is not my first language, and as I don't have a beta-reader I apologize for any uncorrected mistakes you may find.  
> The fusion of prompts for this should be: Sharing a bed / Can you feel this?  
> Thank you in advance if you decide to leave any sort of feedback, be it kudos or a comment. And thank you for reading, always.

Yuto sighs for the upteenth time as he finally resigns to the idea that he won’t be getting any sleep tonight.

He’s been tossing and turning on his granitic mattress for hours on end, and he’s desperately tried to shut off his brain in all the ways he knows how — listening to music, watching pointless cartoons or letargy-inducing documentaries on Netflix, meditating, even counting sheeps —, but the fact that his eyes simply refuse to close makes it obvious nothing has worked, or will work in the immediate future.

He tries not to make too much ruckus as he carefully climbs down the rickety steps that lead from his top bunk to the cold floor of the bedroom he shares with Wooseok: he doesn’t want to wake his roommate up in case he’s sleeping, though he has a striking suspicion he isn’t.

And sure enough, while the rest of his surroundings are engulfed in darkness, a small, feeble, white light shines from where Wooseok is curled up with his cellphone.

Yuto doesn’t even have to speak in order for Wooseok to make room for him on the minuscule bed, as if that’s achievable at all.

The attempt to find space that clearly isn’t there leads to Wooseok being practically plastered against the wall while Yuto settles under the flimsy sheets discarded by the other, trying his best to make his large body feel as tiny as possible. He ends up on his back, half of him out of the mattress completely, Wooseok looming over him from where he’s on his side, holding his head up with his hand to look at Yuto.

“What’s up?”, the younger asks.

Yuto doesn’t really know. Or, at least for one second, he fools himself into thinking he doesn’t.

“I don’t know”, he answers.

Wooseok smiles bitterly.

“I do.”

Yuto looks at him, taken aback by the response despite being perfectly aware of what Wooseok means. He’s always seen right through him, the guy.

“Why are you asking me, then?”

“Because it’s how conversations work.”

Naturally, silence ensues. It’s not a heavy silence, per se, but Yuto can’t stand any kind of silence right now, so he feels compelled to disrupt it.

“So, tell me: what’s up?”

Wooseok looks him in the eye and, though it’s hard, Yuto sustains his gaze well enough.

“You’re scared.”

Ouch.

“Of what?”

“Of everything. Of this whole situation. With Hyojong and Yananie.”

Yuto draws a shaky breath.

Just hearing their names makes him want to scream and punch something.

None of what’s happening is fair.

“I miss them”, he whispers, fearing if he puts any more voice into it it’ll crack and come out all wonky.

Wooseok reaches out for Yuto’s hand and grabs it, giving it a little comforting squeeze.

“I know”, he says, “Me, too.”

Yuto turns towards the other rapper, taking his hand in both of his own to play with his long fingers.

“Will they come back?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Do you think we’ll flop?”

“I hope not. Maybe.”

Wooseok finally lies down completely, still facing Yuto. The latter is staring at their hands between them, brows furrowed in an effort not to crumble.

“This was my dream, Wooseokie. It’s always been my dream. I dreamt of coming to Korea, of debuting, and later on I dreamt of doing it all with you. With the nine of you. And I did, we did, despite all odds. We fought so hard and for a while it was terrifying, but then we made it and it was so worth it. My dream had come true.”

With every word he utters his tone grows a little louder, until he’s speaking in that deep, familiar voice of his everybody loves. Yet, there’s something stuck in his throat: the beginning of a cry that’s been a long time coming. Yuto is trying not to let it go, not until he’s finished talking, which makes his whole body tremble lightly.

It’s such a violent struggle, such a raw kind of pain.

“Lately, everything feels like a nightmare. Or rather, like I’m being forced to wake up to a reality I’m not ready to face. I don’t want to lose all of this. I don’t want to lose Pentagon. I’ve already lost so much, Wooseokie. I’ve lost my mother’s daily smiles, I’ve lost her hugs, I’ve lost the closeness of my biological family — and I thought I’d gained a good replacement, something to help me miss it a little less, something that would make me stand by the choices I’ve made. But it’s being taken from me and there’s nothing I can do to fix things and I’ve never, ever been so scared, ever.”

He’s already crying by the time he pronounces the last of his words, tears streaming down his face as he lets go of Wooseok to try and wipe them away.

He’s mad at himself for not being able to endure this on his own while everyone else is, while even Wooseok — the youngest out of them — is fighting not to burden the others.

He doesn’t want to be the one to break and ask somebody to fix him, to cancel all of this hurt or throw his heart to the dogs. He wants to be strong and present and full of hope and light, he wants to conquer fear and turn it into the determination they all desperately need.

Unfortunately, he’s weak, and sadder than he thought he ever would be.

As soon as he feels a pair of arms close around his shaking body, he can’t help but completely surrender to the welcome touch.

He buries his face in Wooseok’s chest and lets him card his fingers through his messy, damaged hair, as he cries away all the pain he’s been silently storing up.

He distractedly thinks he must be covering Wooseok’s shirt in tears and snot, and that the other is so nice not to complain about it. Yuto is beyond grateful to him for holding his pieces together as he falls apart, because he knows full well he doesn’t have to.

When there’s nothing left in him and he feels like the emptiest of shells, Yuto stops.

It’s sudden: one minute he’s bawling his eyes out, almost convulsing against the younger, and the next he’s completely still, breathing so quietly it’s barely audible.

Once Wooseok is sure Yuto has calmed down enough, he gently lets go of him, and the older rubs his now puffy, reddened face to get rid of the excess of tears and other ickier fluids.

Just one glance at Wooseok is enough to determine he’s cried as well: his huge, chocolate-coloured eyes are bloodshot, and he’s sniffling helplessly in a way that makes him look utterly defenceless despite his hulking build.

In the silence they share, Yuto reaches out for Wooseok’s cheek and cups it with his hand. Wooseok leans into the touch, closing his eyes, and Yuto half-expects him to start purring. Imagining that makes him smile earnestly for the first time in the day, and he scoots closer — slotting one leg between Wooseok’s own — until their noses touch. Wooseok, who hasn’t re-opened his eyes yet, wraps his arms around Yuto’s middle and buries his face in his neck. He inhales deeply when he feels Yuto’s fingers come to massage his bleached scalp soothingly, and he inadvertently squeezes him a little too tight.

“You’re crushing me!”, Yuto complains, though he doesn’t really mean it.

He actually loves it when the other clings to him, would do anything to fall asleep like this every night.

Wooseok lets off a bit, just enough for Yuto to breathe properly, mumbling a half-hearted apology.

“It felt good”, he says, his voice coming out all muffled due to the position he’s in.

With the back of his head, he nudges at Yuto’s hands a couple of times: his way of asking him to keep on petting him, not unlike that of a cat. When Yuto complies, Wooseok presses a featherlike kiss right next to his Adam’s apple, which makes him shiver.

They’re so close it’s physically impossible for them to get any closer, yet they still try.

Yuto wishes he could melt into Wooseok, intertwine his soul with the other’s the same way he can intertwine their fingers. To share this pain more easily, dilute it until it becomes nothing more than a light throb under the skin: manageable, faster to heal.

He doesn’t even notice they’re kissing, at first.

It’s such a natural development of their actions that his body simply adapts to it and moves accordingly, without notifying the brain of the fact that this is not what they normally do, or what they’re supposed to be doing at the moment, anyway.

To be fair, it’s not the first time it happens, though they’ve never discussed it afterwards.

Words are limits we have learnt to impose on ourselves for the sake of communicating, even when what we need to communicate can’t fully be expressed in any existing language.

But for the two of them, silence is enough. You do not speak over something sacred, lest you ruin its sanctity.

They kiss slow, dissecting every minute like they’ve got all the time in the world, which of course isn’t the case. The point is, though, that for once they allow themselves not to care.

They need this, need to take one another apart and eradicate that clump of fear and sadness residing in their chests before they can safely put the pieces back together.

There’s a certain kind of desperate urge to their movements, but not in the way one might think. It’s not eagerness or excitement, it isn’t about being young and horny, or frustrated. It never has been, never will be.

The desire to fix each other, the craving to be fixed by no one if not the person in front of them — they’re so strong they permeate their every action, rendering them almost violent.

Yuto doesn’t think about the intensity with which his nails are digging into Wooseok’s arms, and Wooseok does not worry as he bites down on Yuto’s neck, leaving marks idols should never showcase.

They do not go too far, it all ends as it had started: naturally, quietly, a stark contrast to the burst of emotion they’d felt during the act.

Yuto’s face is streaked with drying tears, and Wooseok kisses his cheek one last time before settling back down next to him. Yuto curls up on his side, laying his head on Wooseok’s chest, and sighs contentedly when the younger snakes one of his noodly arms around his waist.

“Hui is going to kill us when he sees the mess we made”, he mumbles, referring to the very obvious, very angry looking hickeys and scratches.

Wooseok laughs, voice low and hoarse. He turns his head and tilts it so that he may press his lips to the top of Yuto’s head.

“He is. I really needed this, though.”

“You and me both. We’ll figure something out.”

They stay silent for a while, bathing in the aftermath of their scramble for relief.

Yuto finally feels relaxed enough to fall asleep, and all the pent-up weariness starts to have an effect on him.

He searches for Wooseok’s free hand — abandoned on his stomach, waiting for his — and grabs it, interlocking their fingers together.

“Can you feel it?”, Wooseok asks, just as Yuto is about to drift into the realm of dreams or nothingness.

His brain is no longer functioning properly — assuming it was up until now — so the only thing that comes to mind is their second title track.

“Weird change of topic”, he says, slurring his words.

He doesn’t bother opening his eyes, because keeping them open would require too much effort.

“Why are we talking about Five Senses?”

It takes a few seconds, but Wooseok’s laugh comes again, louder than before.

Yuto doesn’t understand why he’s laughing so much. Still, he’s glad he is.

“No, dummy, I was actually asking you if you can feel this.”

This just confuses Yuto more.

“Feel what?”

“The quiet.”

Wooseok’s heartbeat is steady under Yuto’s ear, firmly pressed against his chest.

Their surroundings are immersed in one of those reassuring silences, the ones you can float in without any risk of drowning.

A lot of things have been left unsaid, many are still hanging in the air between the two of them, but for the time being they can breathe in and out and their lungs will not hurt nor beg for mercy.

They’re free, if only for a moment.

And Yuto feels it.

**Author's Note:**

> Even if this fic is Wooyu I literally ship anything and everything in Pentagon, and if I have it my way I'll write enough to show you.
> 
> If you wish to speak about the fic, future prompts or just want to make friends (I'd love to!!) you can find me on twitter at @junguwuseoks ♥


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